The lectionary texts can be found here.
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me! Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me! Call him Here. Take heart; get up, he is calling you. What do you want me to do for you? My teacher, let me see again. Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way. (Mk 10:51-52)
The story here in the tenth chapter of Mark’s gospel – of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar whom Jesus heals of his affliction – is one that those who have followed a Christian tradition are deeply familiar with. It is one of those miracle stories of Jesus that as children we may have been amazed by… yet it is one that as adults we begin to get a bit hazy on with our busy lives, maybe lumping it in our mind with all of the “miraculous stories of Jesus ministry.’ Aren’t there more stories of Jesus healing blind men? (There are 3.) This one doesn’t even have mud and spit involved! How does it even relate to our lives today?
Jesus has a question for Bartimaeus “what do you want me to do for you?” Our society seems to perpetually ask of us a similar question, but tends to cut it a little shorter… simply asking “what do you want? …and turns out we want a lot. I think it’s tempting to think we might have list of commercial goods on our ‘want-list’, anywhere from a new bike (with a baby seat?), flatscreen TV? But, if it were the “son of David” approaching… i.e. the promised Messiah. The king foretold. A miracle maker. What would you ask of Jesus?
Would it be a list of personal ailments that need remedy? For me, a shoulder injury that keeps flaring up? Perhaps a bad back? Migraines that won’t go way? Or perhaps, someone sick… a family member in the hospital? Indeed, worthy of prayer. What would we ask? For this is where our prayer life can end up: creating a laundry list of things that we want from God. Rather than offering ourselves in communion with the divine, prayer can become about projecting our wishes and desires – what we want God to do for us to make our lives more comfortable, less painful.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
So, what is this story in Mark’s gospel about? A man named Bartimaeus who made enough noise that Jesus finally gave him what he wanted? This unfair description does not do justice to the real trauma of Bartimaeus’ circumstance, although it rings of the almost transactional way that the Christian faith has sometimes been reduced to. It sounds more like the parable in Luke 11 of the man who would go to his neighbour at midnight and through persistence eventually receive the bread he seeks for his guests.
One can think of how passages such as Philippians 4:19 can be reduced to mere wish fulfillment: “And my God will fully satisfy every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” (Phil 4:19) Pulled out of context, that verse does not express the full context that Philippians gives of a right relationship with the Lord wherein what one truly needs can be questioned.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
To be clear, it is not wrong to bring the desires of one’s heart to the Lord in prayer. The next chapter of Mark will have more to say about this. Being able to bare our soul to God is what the Gospel is all about: a relational connection that is possible through the holy spirit because of the intercession of Christ, the Word who became flesh to repair our broken relationship with God. In Bartimaeus we have someone who had the opportunity to call out to Jesus himself, to make his petition directly to Christ. What was Bartimaeus, the “son of Timeus” seeking? What did he want?
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
It seems obvious what he was seeking of Jesus: a miracle! To regain his lost sight. Bartimaeus was blind – but not from birth “My teacher, let me see again” (10:51). He remembered what it was to see. But now, he had no way to earn an income. He was a beggar. The bottom rung of society. Barely surviving, going from meal to meal, a picture of the social injustice of his day.
Let’s paint that picture.
It is a hot dusty day in Jericho. You can taste it on your lips, it sticks between your teeth. The sun beats down upon streets, clamouring with people. The blind man, Bartimaeus sits on the roadside with his cloak unfolded to catch any coins that might come his way, calling out for alms, hoping for a bite to eat or a cup of water to ease his throat, tongue parched from trying to be heard. There are more people than usual today: a multitude is clamouring to see the man Jesus that some call a prophet, some a Messiah, a promised king, a miracle man. The furor of noise gets ever closer, overwhelming Bartimaeus as people only barely step around him. It is terrifying… but it is a moment of hope, of possibility.
“Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!”
Who is this beggar to call out to the prophet?? Has he no sense of his place? Be quiet!!
“Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Amidst that multitude, Jesus hears his voice. And JESUS STOOD STILL. An island of calm in the middle of the storm of people pressing all around. There is power in the silence of this moment. Silence that marks the presence of the Lord, as in Revelation 8:1 when the seventh seal is opened.
“Call him here.”
And now, it is up to Bartimaeus to respond. Jesus calls him, leaving the choice to respond to Christ up to him. It is a powerful moment of agency, with Jesus empowering this man on the lowest rung of society to act. And respond, Bartimaeus does. He leaps up, casting aside his cloak that he used to catch coins from passersby… his only safety net. He drops everything to answer the master’s call.
Jesus continues to invert power relationships in this narrative. The prophet, the messiah (a king?!) asks this man:
“What do you want me to do?” (The king would serve him??) “My teacher, let me see again.” “Go, your faith has made you well.” or alternatively in some translations, “your faith has saved you.”
Jesus heard him, saw him, recognized him, validated him as someone worth speaking to, helping, serving, healing, saving. How he seeks to engage with us. How Jesus acts here is how Christ acts in our lives.
And Bartimaeus’ response upon regaining his sight? To immediately follow him on “the way”. This is coded language – “the way” is how the early church referred to itself, the gathering of Jesus followers. It is the path of discipleship that Bartimaeus is a shining example of. Here in Mark, the path of discipleship is even more specifically a reference to “the way of the Cross” – for this story occurs immediately before Jesus and his disciples enter into Jerusalem, into the passion narrative.
Bartimaeus did not let his societal status get in the way of engaging with Jesus. He immediately responded, trusted in that Jesus would help him. And after Christ’s miraculous healing action, ‘Bart’ doesn’t disappear… Although his story does not continue, his relationship with Jesus does continue “on the way.” As Bartimaeus disappears into the crowd, his story has become one with Christ’s story. In Bartimaeus, Mark paints a vivid picture of true discipleship. For discipleship is fundamentally about relationships.
“What do you want me to do for you?” …or maybe “What do you want from me?”
Now those words spark musical associations for me. Not of the classical sort you might expect from a violinist, but from my long love of progressive rock. Those same words “What do you want from me?” are the title of a tune by Pink Floyd off of its 1994 album “Division Bell.” Written years after a legendary band breakup, lead guitar David Gilmour described the theme that ran through the album as relationships and “a failure to communicate.” Now I really wouldn’t advise seeking out Gospel Truths in the music of Pink Floyd (they tend to the more melancholic or even depressing); however, the lyrics not only echo Jesus’ question in Mark 10:51, they also point to the human longing for a relational connection… and as the obvious scriptural references indicate, a desire to communicate with / to relate with something beyond (or greater than) themselves. Some of the lyrics:
I’m not the one you need…
What do you want from me?
You can have anything you want
You can drift, you can dream, even walk on water
Anything you want
You can own everything you see
Sell your soul for complete control
Is that really what you need?
You can lose yourself this night
See inside there is nothing to hide
Turn and face the light
What do you want from me?
What do you want from me?
(Pink Floyd, “What do you want from me?” Division Bell, 1994)
This song points to another human truth: a tendency to look in the wrong place, yet underneath all, to have a yearning desire for the light, a need for relation with Christ. Even those lived in an earthly relationship with Jesus didn’t always understand what discipleship means. If you remember from last week’s Gospel reading, earlier in Mark 10 we see James and John from Jesus’ inner circle respond to the exact same question: “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mk 10:35) Their desire was for power, privilege: one to sit on either side of Jesus when he comes into his kingdom.
Bartimaeus, however, responded as the psalmist did: He cried for mercy, and was heard. Just as the Lord hears our prayers. When Jesus called, he leapt up, cloak scattered behind in the dust of his old life. He trusts in the Lord, seeking, and receiving an answer of deliverance. Christ works in him, and he blessed the Lord. He recognizes the goodness of God: tastes and yes, sees what the Lord has done. He tastes and sees the goodness of God that humbled Job in our Old Testament passage… and follows the Lord on the way.
So how can we respond? What is it that we can do?
As with Bartimaeus, Jesus hears us when we cry for mercy. He invites us into his presence. Into love and mercy. Into relationship. Into discipleship. Jesus works in us… And then we too must go. We are called to go out into the world.
Can we search for the power imbalances as Christ did, engaging with and encouraging those who have no agency? We don’t have to look far in our society to find our Barts, those who suffer from injustice. We must not be one with the crowd that tries to silence the blind beggar… but being a voice with and for those without the ability to be heard. We must respond with the same humility that Job found, and that the psalmist experienced, that Jesus himself, the Servant King exemplified. We follow to the cross, to the life of resurrection hope and restoration. To the table of our Lord Jesus. To the call of discipleship.
Thanks be to God.
Leave a Reply